


Her eyes the colour of icy skies

by mrs_badcrumble



Series: New Krypton [3]
Category: Man of Steel (2013)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:15:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9585056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_badcrumble/pseuds/mrs_badcrumble
Summary: »They asked for me? By name?« Hardy wonders briefly if Faora-Ul said: »Also, ask for the idiot who had the temerity to answer back to me when we first arrived. He ought to be good for a cheap laugh or two. And when we tire of him, we can throw him out the nearest airlock,« and someone translated that as »Colonel Nathan Hardy, USAF, absolutely essential as liaison to Venusian  colony of New Krypton.«





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mercscilla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercscilla/gifts).



Nathan Hardy is not a patient man. 

His ulcer starts acting up the moment the reality of the aliens sink in. _They are here and they will destroy us if we (he) don't (doesn't) comply with their demands._  

He doesn't sleep at all, partly because he hightails it to base immediately and partly because his stomach has turned into Three Mile Island a few seconds before meltdown. 

There is also no tea anywhere on base. At three in the morning he takes a few sips of Khalani's coffee and for the rest of the night feels like it burned all the way down to his bladder. 

(He calls Katie and tells her to pack Tom and the kids in the car and drive out to their father's cabin. 

»Nate, I need to see my doctor on Friday.« 

»You will, Katie. This is just for a couple of days. Everything will be fine, okay?« He is lying through his teeth and he doesn't care.) 

In the morning, a man called Woodburn makes his job much easier. They liaise with the FBI, not that it takes them long (only the entire morning, with the fate of the entire world hanging in the balance. Hardy polishes his shoes while Swanwick is alternately yelling, threatening and hissing into the phone) and they are off. 

Hardy knocks politely on Woodburn's door and is not at all surprised when Woodburn starts acting like the tough guy he wishes he were. 

While Hardy can (and will) occasionally bring forth a superhuman effort, people really should not expect him to hang onto his patience _by his nails_. 

Five minutes later Woodburn is singing like a canary and essentially, confirms that a) it really is Lois Lane they should be talking to and b) he knows nothing else that could be of use to them. 

He had really convinced himself that he had seen the last of Lois Lane. 

Half an hour later, they are standing before her apartment building. The FBI mindlessly run inside, but Hardy thinks for a few seconds and orders the driver to stop the car in front of the back alley next to the building. 

Bingo. He allows himself to feel a small amount of admiration for the troublesome woman. Only a small amount, though – outwitting the FBI is no remarkable feat, in Hardy's book. 

And then she looks at him, says »Excuse me,« and throws up all over his freshly polished shoes. 

_How lovely._  

 

The doc takes one look at Lois Lane and says: »It's flu and/ or a particularly nasty cold. Plenty of fluids. Bed rest for at least three days. If she has a fever, give her Tylenol-« she slaps a white package with pink lettering on the table »-no less than two pills at a time, no more than ten pills in 24 hours. Call me if she turns yellow or if she develops a rash. Also, wash and disinfect your hands!« The doc yells the last sentence through the door because she is already tending to someone else but Hardy thinks he can hear her frantically applying disinfectant and rubbing her hands together. 

Some of the men keep a safe distance from Lois Lane from then on. Hardy has spent enough time around his nephews that the only diseases he hasn't developed an immunity against are HIV, Ebola and probably the Black Plague, so he stays close and watches her like a hawk. 

 

The scene in the interrogation room would be quite mundane and the alien would seem like any ordinary man (admittedly wearing tights and a cape) were it not for the fact that they found him hovering thirty feet above their base. And that he can, apparently, see and hear through anything. 

When the alien effortlessly breaks the handcuffs, Hardy pulls Hamilton behind him (for all the good it might do; if the alien breaks metal without any visible effort, bones and flesh won't be much of a problem either). Nothing comes out of it, though. The alien agrees to be handed over and they move to the rendezvous point. 

 

The figure that comes out of the alien ship is female; that much is certain. The jumpsuit and the armour leave very little to the imagination. When her visor clears, Hardy sees icy blue eyes, pale skin, black hair and a full red mouth. Just like Snow White, he thinks. 

»General Zod would like… this woman to accompany me.« 

»You asked for the alien. You didn't say anything about one of our own.« 

»Shall I tell the general you are… unwilling to comply?« 

»I don't care what you tell him.« 

They lock eyes, hers the colour of ice, which bore into him; his the colour of dusk, not giving one inch to any enemy. He will not back down. Lois Lane, while nosy and stubborn, is one of their own. 

»It's alright. I'll go.« 

He doesn't sigh in relief (because he isn't relieved), but there is a palpable lessening of tension. 

Snow White turns gracefully and doesn't even look back to check if Lois Lane is really following her. 

 

When the shuttle takes off, Hardy feels a bit cheated. He had expected a battle, but in the end, they are minus an alien and a nosy, stubborn reporter and not one shot had been fired. 

And while Lois Lane had volunteered to accompany the alien, Hardy feels deep inside he ought to have done or said something to keep her safe. 

He also doesn't like twiddling his thumbs. Neither does Swanwick, for that matter. 

It will be a wonder of epic proportions if his ulcer doesn't perforate by the end of the week. 

 

The shuttle returns and as soon as its doors open, the alien is there, carrying Lois Lane in his arms. She looks terrible, with skin stretched over her cheekbones, chapped lips, sweaty skin, limp and unresponsive. Hardy has someone call for a stretcher while a medic begins searching for veins on her forearms, then the back of her hands and then finally, jabs a needle into her neck and hooks her up to an infusion. 

»What happened?« 

The alien gently lays Lois Lane on a stretcher. »As regards the general, he may still become an ally, though he may just as well decide to attack us. Miss Lane, however, is quite ill and dehydrated. Her fever is spiking. She needs medical attention right away.« 

Nathan Hardy is not a heartless man. He manages a smidgen of sympathy, partly also because since the Dire Rear Incident a few years ago, he knows exactly how dehydration feels like. 

As does half of the base who opted for beef that fateful day. 

 

Strangely enough, the aliens don't attack and devastate but instead ask to negotiate for Venus. Hardy is more than a little impressed this time because talking an alien warlord into peaceful negotiations is a lot more difficult than outwitting the FBI. 

He is present each time behind a one way mirror though he doesn't think even for one moment that he is invisible to any alien inside the room. General Zod is polite enough to never mention it. And he does save Lois Lane's life once by performing the Heimlich maneuver on her. 

Hardy asks Superman once: »What did Lois Lane say to the General to change his mind?« 

Superman says: »She said humans would rather blow up the Earth than surrender it to aliens.« 

Hardy is even more impressed. Deeply disturbed as well, but impressed. He says: »You didn't participate in the conversation?« 

Superman smiles and says: »Well, kind of. I was choking to death, so all I could do was listen.« 

 

He sometimes tries to superimpose his memory of Snow White (the Disney version, which he was forced to watch over and over again ad nauseam because it was his sister's favourite) with Faora-Ul. 

Faora-Ul probably wouldn't sing with the forest fauna and neither would she clean up after anyone but herself, even if the aforementioned fauna would gladly come to her aid. And she would probably strain something laughing at anyone stupid enough to apply for the post of Prince Charming. 

Which then devolves into speculating if there are seven other Kryptonians on her ship, though he already knows who would be Grumpy. 

Hi-ho, hi-ho, indeed. 

 

One day, he musters all the courage he has and approaches General Zod's second in command. 

»Sub-Commander?« 

She looks at him and he feels like she is reading his thoughts off the back of his skull. »Yes?« 

»The preliminary agreement also includes a specification of the materials you need and which we will provide.« He waits for her to react, acknowledge and/or correct him. She does not react for several seconds and Hardy feels like a schoolboy. 

»Yes?« 

»I would like to sit down with you and discuss the specifics. After we have a list, I will liaise with the representatives of our governments and they will take over.« 

She nods and then says: »You do not have a unified government yet. How _quaint_ of you.« Hardy mentally bangs his head against a very hard wall. 

The discussion itself, however, is relatively painless. Faora-Ul doesn't throw any more barbs his way and Hardy refrains from saying: »You didn't pay attention and blew up your planet. How _quaint_ of you.« 

He is very proud of himself for that. Discipline, he thinks, what a wonderful thing. 

At the end, Faora-Ul stands and reaches out her hand. Surprised, Hardy grasps and shakes it automatically. His expression must have broken all communication barriers because Faora-Ul says: »Is this not the correct way to do it?« 

Hardy manages to say »Yes, it is,« and not sound like a complete idiot. He doesn't let go of her hand because he is completely mesmerized by her eyes. 

She says: »I am glad to hear it. You have been most generous and understanding. I fear we would not have been nearly as much, were our situations reversed.«  

Any finesse Hardy had acquired over the years goes flying out the nearest window as he says: »Well, threatening us with annihilation had a lot to do with it, so you shouldn't flatter us too much.« 

Which, unsurprisingly, breaks the mood. Faora-Ul gently extricates her hand from his grasp, wishes him a pleasant day and leaves. 

In the privacy of his quarters, he bangs his head against the wall. He has a mental image of Faora-Ul reporting his words to General Zod and him declaring that such an insult can only end in war. 

Knowing it isn't likely to happen doesn't help at all. 

 

Swanwick is ranting about the closed-mindedness of the Krypton military, but all Hardy can think about is _they can cure cancer_ and _Katie won't have to take the damn pills anymore_ and _she will get to see her grandchildren._ In that moment, he forgives the Kryptonians for all the damage they have (however unknowingly) inflicted upon his stomach lining. 

Come to think of it, his stomach hasn't given him trouble in a while. He idly wonders why. 

 

On the plane to the Swiss resort where they are supposed to have the celebratory dinner, Hardy asks Lois: »Do you ever wonder what they think about us?« 

Lois looks up from her notes and says: »I've never given it much thought, to be honest. I suppose they see us as children. They are far ahead of us in every aspect. It is a testament to them that they are negotiating with instead of waging war on us.« 

»Well, to be honest, they did start out that way-« 

Lois sighs, »I know, and believe me, I'm trying not to think about it too much. But they did lose their home and everyone they knew and loved. I think some allowance ought to be made for that, at least.« 

So during the reception, he approaches Faora-Ul with trepidation. She is unaccompanied and he thanks whatever deity is present for small mercies. »Sub-Commander?« 

Her icy eyes seem to bore a hole through his skull. »Yes?« 

He clears his throat. »During the last time we met, I may have insulted you. If that is the case, I deeply apologize. No harm was meant.« 

Faora-Ul studies him for at least ten seconds, during which he feels every drop of sweat trickle down his back. But he does not fidget, nor does he show any other signs of discomfort. 

She then says: »This is a time of great change for both our peoples. We are all under great pressure. No harm was taken, Colonel, but your gesture is nevertheless appreciated.« She raises her glass and he clinks it. She looks somewhat surprised and says: »I thought the glasses were only raised.« 

»When toasting someone from afar. When people are standing reasonably close, the custom is to clink the glasses together.« 

Faora nods and Hardy can see her filing the information away. He opens his mind to say something (anything), but then the dinner gong sounds. Faora excuses herself and gracefully strides towards the dining room. 

Afterwards, when the Kryptonians leave, Hardy feels sympathy for Lois Lane, because this is something she really could not have seen coming. But he is also glad that he is not the only one committing hideous _faux pas_ left and right. 

That night he dreams of icy blue eyes and a soft, silken voice. In the morning he wakes up and bangs his head against the wall a few times. 

This is becoming a habit, he thinks. 

 

One week later, he is sitting in Swanwick's office, staring at the wall. 

»They asked for me? By name?« Hardy wonders briefly if Faora-Ul said: »Also, ask for the idiot who had the temerity to answer back to me when we first arrived. He ought to be good for a cheap laugh or two. And when we tire of him, we can throw him out the nearest airlock,« and someone translated that as »Colonel Nathan Hardy, USAF, absolutely essential as liaison to Venusian colony of New Krypton.« 

»By name, Nathan. This is a big opportunity. I assume you are going, of course?« 

»Uh, yeah. Yes, sir,« Nathan answers on autopilot because a large part of his brain is still frantically trying to make sense of it all, like a hamster in a wheel after it accidentally inhaled cocaine. »Who did they ask for besides me, sir?« 

»Lois Lane and Superman.« 

Two people infinitely more suited for the job than he will ever be. Hardy hopes he will be able to hide in their shadow until he learns the ropes. 

He forces a smile and says: »When do I leave, sir?« 

 

They orbit Venus while the World Engine terraforms it. The Kryptonians decide on Earth-like conditions, undoubtedly tempted by the promise of flight. They also change the rotation so that one day is almost 26 hours, since a day longer than a year sound absurd in everyone's opinion. 

(Also probably the flora and fauna they received from Earth would only survive under very specific conditions, but he's going with flight. It's how his nephews would reason their way to a decision.) 

He doesn't have much time to learn the ropes, but that's okay, because for the first few weeks his job on New Krypton is very much like his old job on Earth. 

Then Faora-Ul comes into his office one day and says: »Our Genesis chamber is not working. There are several microelements and nutrients that are missing from the nutrient solution because the tissues lining the chamber have sustained damage during the time the ship was on Earth.« 

Hardy nods and says: »Do you need to just replenish the solution or regrow the tissues before you can continue?« Faora opens her mouth and Hardy says: »Or both?« 

Faora-Ul says: »Eventually, we will need both. But for the tests to proceed, we need the nutrient solution.« 

Hardy says: »Okay. Give me a list of the exact composition of the solution and I'll make it happen.« He's already trying to remember the name of the biochemist Hamilton was so excited about, but all his brain comes up with was that the surname had five letters and was very generic and American. Then he starts thinking about who he will have to cc in the mail (someone from CDC and possibly Geneva and the WHO, just to be on the safe side), which degenerates into a mental diatribe on modern internet etiquette. 

Faora-Ul nods. »I will have the scientists send the list to you immediately.« She makes to stand, so Hardy stands up as well. 

Faora looks surprised. »Were you planning on going somewhere? Did I interrupt your plans?« 

»No, it is considered polite to be on equal standing when greeting someone or when saying goodbye.« 

Faora smiles as she files the information away. »How quaint,« she says as she gracefully strides out of the office. 

Hardy is torn between banging his head on the desk and smiling like an idiot. 

For some unfathomable reason, from then on, Faora consults him when there is something she needs. Not that he's complaining. 

Quite the opposite, in fact. 

 

Swanwick sends a box of Dom Perignon to Venus in anticipation of »celebrating the inevitable success of New Krypton«. 

Upon reading this, Harvey presses his lips together and decides the only way he will ever crack open one of those bottles is if by some miracle he doesn't out himself as the complete idiot that he is and if most of the colony is still standing a year from now. 

 

One evening, he is woken up – he had dozed off on his desk, and he notices with distaste, drooled over some reports he should be reading – by a lovely, angelic voice that seems to come from everywhere. He steps out of his office and the voice is a bit louder. A bit of to and fro and he finds the sweet spot – the balcony next to the mess. 

He sees Lois Lane once, standing by the window across from him. He raises his cup to her and she raises hers. No more needs to be said. 

 

Hardy hears about the verbal sparring match between Lois Lane and the LexCorp subsidiary later that day. He is even more impressed when Faora herself tells him the story, emphasizing Lois' self-assuredness and forcefulness, as they are on their way from a meeting. 

»You seem to be quite impressed,« Hardy observes. 

»Indeed I am,« Faora says. »Witnessing her wage a verbal battle so vicious against anyone was most unexpected.« 

»Well, she is a first-class journalist. Having a sharp tongue kind of comes with the territory.« 

»What does that mean? A sharp tongue?« 

Hardy thinks, well, in for a penny, and cautiously steers Faora towards the mess hall where he pushes a cup of tea into her hands whilst explaining the expression. She says: »Ah. On Krypton, we would say: 'A strong bite.'« 

Though he can wager a pretty good guess, Hardy still asks: »Where does that expression come from?« 

And they talk for a full thirty minutes before Faora excuses herself. 

He meets Lois Lane in the hangar and just like that, they are suddenly talking. 

Lois says: »I really thought you'd bear a grudge against me for throwing up on your shoes.« 

And Hardy says: »Well, it turned out you were really sick, so it wasn't really your fault.« 

Lois smiles and says: »They were very shiny.« 

»Yeah, that's because it took me the entire morning to polish them.« 

They look at one another and then Lois snorts and starts laughing. »I'm sorry,« she manages between gasps, »it's not funny, I know, I'm really sorry.« 

Hardy follows soon after, because it is funny and because Lois laughing reminds him of his little sister. 

 

Hardy is sitting in another meeting where an irritable scientist (Italian? thinks Hardy) is arguing with Jax-Ur. 

»Yes, I am well aware of that, but you must understand that we cannot guarantee that the structural support for the Chamber will hold if gestation is to occur under Kryptonian conditions.« 

»The Chamber was built for gestation under Kryptonian conditions. The additional reinforcements will be just that, _additional_.« 

»Then why do you need them at all?« 

»The ship we have retrieved from Antarctica has been left unserviced and unattended for millenia. It is a precautionary measure.« 

»Then you admit that you consider catastrophic failure of the structural integrity a possibility!« 

There is a pause of about five seconds while Jax-Ur tries to think of a way to maneuver himself out of the conversational cul-de sac he has found himself in, and another two seconds to realize there is no escape. Before he can respond, however, de Silva (Hardy finally having looked up her name) launches another volley at him: »If there is even a minimal chance that such an event might occur, it must be considered an absolute certainty.« 

Just as the she takes a breath to continue her tirade, Faora-Ul says: »Professor de Silva, we are grateful for your help, however, we have been birthing our brood for millenia and I daresay that Jax-Ur knows what he must do. While you are welcome to observe and learn, the actual seeding and birthing will be overseen by one of us. You are here to provide our chamber with the needed modifications.« Jax-Ur acknowledges the compliment with a slight nod of the head, while de Silva gasps indignantly. 

Faora continues: »General Zod has already spoken to the UN and they are sending a group of bioengineers who will build a backup chamber. Until then, our current – _and only_ – chamber is to be reinforced as discussed.« 

Nathan thinks: _Hah, so this is what falling in love feels like._  

 

It is Sunday and Hardy is reading a book while still lying in bed at 9 am. New Krypton had turned him into a most decadent creature, he thinks. 

His next thoughts are in succession: 

Was that a crash? 

That was definitely a crash. 

Where is the control tower? There's just rubble where it- 

Shit. Are we under attack? 

He makes to call Faora, who was a fraction of a second faster, so he only says: »I've seen it. Where are you?« 

They meet in the warehouse to formulate a plan. Faora has seen Superman and General Zod fighting and seems to believe they are responsible for the damage. Hardy yells: »So we are not under attack,« to be heard above the blaring klaxons. 

Faora's nostrils are flared, but otherwise she is no different than usual. Her clipped delivery, however, betrays her emotional state. »No, we are not under attack. Unless one describes it as an attack of stupidity which had two victims at first and then destroyed a third of New Krypton in less than an hour.« 

Nathan calls up the miracle worker who is currently on vacation. 

After an eternity of ringing, Lois Lane finally picks up: »This had better be important, Hardy.« 

»Lois, whatever you're doing, drop it and _get your ass here this instant_ _._ « There is a crash close by and Faora moves closer to Nathan protectively. He would be insulted, but he does feel safer if she is close to him. 

» _This instant._ You're the only one who can talk some sense into these two idiots.« Faora yells »Down!« and pulls him away at superspeed, punching through a wall along the way. 

As she deposits him on the ground, Faora says: »Are you all right, Colonel?« 

Hardy answers on automatic: »Yeah, I guess so.« 

His first thought is, We moved so fast I couldn't hang onto my phone. 

His second is, If it weren't for her, I'd be dead. 

Right where he had been standing (crouching, to be honest) mere seconds ago, are Zod and Superman, wrestling. 

» _Very well_.« Faora draws herself up and strides towards the two men fighting. Hardy has heard that tone of voice before, from both his mother and from his sister when they had finally had enough silliness. It has always instilled in him a visceral fear unmatched by anything he has seen on or off the battlefield in his past fourty-three years. 

What follows is remarkably similar to a mother dragging her two troublesome sons away by their ears, berating them all the way, even though the boys are taller than the mother and none of them are really human. Faora speaks (hisses and growls) in Kryptonian, but Hardy has no trouble understanding the gist of what she is saying. 

Superman and the General listen to her, their heads hung like the chastized boys that they are. 

 

He finds Faora in the mess, mechanically spooning some sort of gruel into her mouth. He sits down across the table from her. 

»I have ordered the remaining energy diverted to the Genesis Chamber, the sickbay and to the hydroponics department. This is all we will be eating until the generators are repaired.«. She eats another spoonful and says: »Miss Lane has arrived and will speak to both Kal-El and the General.« Her voice is even quieter than usual and her movements are controlled and precise. Hardy knows she is one step from exploding and that were she to see either the General or Superman right now, she would probably beat them both within an inch of their lives. »She has suggested removing their testicles.« 

Hardy smiles and says: »If you want, I can go looking for a blunt knife right away.« 

Faora looks at him and smiles. She grasps his hand and squeezes it. Hardy smiles back. He doesn't let go of her hand. Slowly, the tension leaves Faora's body, as if Hardy's body were a lightning rod for her ire. 

Then Faora becomes serious. »Kal-El had a good reason for his anger. On Krypton, General Zod fought his father and killed him.« 

»Ah,« says Hardy. 

Faora continues: »It is of course no excuse for the nearly destroying our new home, however unthinkingly, but it is an explanation.« 

»Hm,« says Hardy. 

»Kal-El has also refused to share the Codex with us once the Genesis Chamber is ready for birthing.« Faora pushes the bowl of gruel away and pinches the bridge of her nose with her free hand. »Krypton cannot be reborn without children. Without children we have no future.« Her voice is small and tired, just like the rest of her. 

Hardy gently takes her other hand in his own and says: »Things seem very dark right now. But I promise you, they will get better. Superman is a good man and he will not let your people hang in the dark. Okay?« 

Faora looks him in the eyes and after an eternity, nods. She looks exhausted, so Hardy says: »Tell you what, you go and grab some shut-eye for a few hours and I'll deliver the damage report to the General. How does that sound?« 

Faora smiles and says: »That sounds wonderful.« 

The damage report is extensive and exhaustive, and Hardy delivers it to General Zod thirty minutes later. 

 

The first thing he says is: »Oh, hello, you're a pirate,« whereupon he mentally slaps himself on the head and says: »The damage report, General.« 

Zod looks at him with his uninjured eye, steps on his uninjured leg and extends his uninjured arm to take Hardy's report. Hardy is torn between feeling sorry for him and laughing hysterically. 

»Thank you, Colonel.« 

»You're welcome, General.« Hardy does a textbook-perfect about-face, marches out of Zod's quarters and does not laugh until he is well away. He doesn't even care if Zod can hear him. 

It's probably all the stress anyway, Hardy thinks. After all, I've nearly died today. 

 

He wakes up at four in the morning and thinks, Hello there. Long time no see. 

His stomach is burning again and no water comes out of the pipe in the bathroom. So he sighs, takes the Prilosec and makes his way to the mess where he swallows two of them with a glass of water. 

On the way back, he hears the angelic voice again and since he is up already and since it has been that kind of day, he follows it until he comes to a room at the very edge of the complex, where he sees Faora sitting on the groun, cross-legged. The sun is shining through the high widows and bathing her in a soft light. She is doing something with her hands (weaving perhaps?) and singing. 

Hardy is mesmerized. He can't stop staring at her, but he still musters enough brain cells to skulk to an abandoned sofa in the shadows (thank you, stealth training) and fall asleep there. 

He wakes up well after sunrise with Faora's cape covering him and her sitting by his side. 

After discreetly checking whether there's any drool on his face (thankfully no), Hardy opts for suave. »Hi there.« 

Fara smiles. »Good morning. I though you must be exhausted, so I let you sleep.« 

»Thank you.« Hardy stretches and looks at Faora. »You have a beautiful voice.« 

»Thank you.« 

They look at each other like teenagers and Hardy extends an arm and Faora snuggles close. 

Well, he thinks, time to break out the champagne. 

He grins like an idiot for the rest of the day. 

 

The party is a success, partly because of the champagne to grease the tongues and souls of everyone present and partly because everyone is glad noone is fighting anyone anymore. 

Hardy takes advantage of the genial atmosphere and steers Faora into the general direction of the dancefloor. She stops abruptly when their destination becomes apparent and says: »Now, Nathan, remember what we agreed,« and Hardy is torn between trying to wriggle out of a promise he made (so undignified) and eating alien food (which Faora had to do at least once, so no argument will hold any water). 

He gracefully concedes her point and allows her to pull him towards the buffet. Faora points out a few of the Kryptonian delicacies that she enjoyed as a child and smiles at his sceptical look. 

»Well, how do you know you won't like it if you haven't tried it yet?« 

Hardy agrees with her in general, but still braces for the worst when he bites into the food. 

Hm, he thinks, not bad; like nuts and oil and cheese and something fresh, like mint, but different. 

He still eats only a polite amount of food before he pulls Faora to the dancefloor. She doesn't resist this time and gladly follows his lead. 

He catches a glimpse of Lois leaning into Zod on the balcony. 

About time, he thinks. 

 

The party goes a long way towards loosening things up. The humans are no longer afraid of the Kryptonians and the Kryptonians begin to trust humans for real. 

One of the consequences of which is that they rid themselves of their armour. And if Hardy thought Faora had been distracting in her armour, he is absolutely not prepared for her in what can be charitably described as a see-through dress, the sight of which sends him walking straight into a wall. 

He congratulates himself on walking into a wall where noone could possibly see him until he hears a snicker from the far side of the corridor.  

From then on, Lois Lane grins every time she sees him, just to remind him of his misfortune, the smug troll. 

(The smug troll who leaves a puddle of drool every time she passes General Zod in the corridor, so it really sort of evens out.) 

 

That's it, thinks Hardy. This is the last time I fly anything not tested and approved by the US Air Force. 

Faora gently touches his forearm and says: »Miss Lane and Kal-El have prepared everything. If you are ready, we will slowly lift you.« 

Nathan dimly remembers being told that anyone suspected of having a spine injury should be moved by at least four people, but he wisely says nothing, because the situation being what it is, it would be a very silly comment indeed. So all he says is: »Ready as I'll ever be.« 

They are far more careful and gentle than what he's used to from the battlefield and they immobilize him very thoroughly. At one point he wonders if they intend to tape his mouth shut as well. 

(They don't. Hardy assumes it's because they can't bear to deny themselves the pleasure of his sparkling wit.) 

Hardy waves his hand and says: »They will look in the wrong place. We landed more than five hundred miles away from where they lost our signal.« 

Superman volunteers to inform the base and with a whoosh, he is gone. Hardy thinks that superspeed would be a truly useful power to have as a slight pain in his stomach makes itself felt. He ignores it. 

At first. 

When Lois Lane compliments him on the landing, Hardy makes an effort to be suave, but is cut off by the sudden pain, stronger than before, located where his liver is. Faora gently touches his stomach, her cold fingers making him jump, for which she apologizes; while Lois is fiddling with an infusion. 

He refuses the painkillers. 

Hardy has no reason to worry, because he is reasonably certain Kryptonian technology could even bring him back from the dead. He is still anxious and Lois' jokes do little to mitigate it. 

He stills only when Faora runs her fingers through his hair. 

He says: »I feel we have bonded as a team on this mission. We should do this more often,« and revels in the frankly murderous look Lois Lane throws him. 

He is pretty sure she would have hit him if Faora weren't present. 

And if he weren't slowly bleeding to death from his liver. 

 

The rescue is anticlimatic. A Kryptonian ship lands close by and within five minutes Hardy is being prodded and poked by the doctors and nurses while being wheeled into surgery. When the door to the OR is about to close, Hardy lifts his head to see Faora, lips pressed into a thin line, pale and weary, her body tense. He winks at her and she smiles briefly before turning and striding away. 

Afterwards, he lies in the observation room while Nurse Keeley enters his vitals into his chart. She also tells him in no uncertain terms he is to drink a multivitamin-multielement juice which smells like poo from a terminally ill animal. Nurse Keeley, in Hardy's opinion, takes a perverse amount of pleasure in describing the punishment he will receive if he does not follow his instructions (namely no desert for as long as he's under observation. Which is at least a week). 

He mentally places her onto his future hit list. Not that he plans on going through with any part of it, but it makes him feel a little better and more hopeful. 

(Also, one week with no desert is peanuts compared to the time Katie didn't get a Barbie for Christmas and dressed him in pink, sparkly abominations every chance she got until their parents caved. Pha.) 

Then, Faora comes around and says nothing while she holds his hand. Just like that, everything is right with the world once more. 

»See? Told you everything would be fine.« 

Faora says nothing for a good few moments, then she squeezes his hand and says: »Yes, you did. Nevertheless, I would appreciate it if we could avoid such situations in the future. I have grown quite attached to you and would grieve deeply were anything serious to happen to you.« 

And well, Hardy's brain crashes and burns because he can't think of a single intelligent and reasonable thing to say. He stares at Faora, open mouthed and somehow manages to scrape together enough brain cells to say: »Well, I would be sorry too. If anything happened to you. Not that it will, because you're indestructible. It kind of goes without saying that I would be sorry if anything happened to me.« 

Hardy then forces himself to stop talking. It is more difficult than he expected. 

Which is when Lois Lane arrives, bearing no gifts at all, Hardy tries to joke and ends up doubled over in pain because surprise surprise, laughing right after someone digged through your stomach with sharp tools isn't a very smart idea. 

He does blackmail Lois into disposing of the multivitamin goo (which, he thinks whimsically, does rhyme with poo. Maybe he should tell Nurse Keeley to turn off the morphine. Maybe not.), which brings balance to this world once more. 

Nathan Lane 1, Universe 0. 

 

One good thing about being in sickbay is that he is no longer plagued by whatshername, an Italian scientist, self-appointed leader of the Biochemistry team who badgers him day after day for resources he supposedly owns and distributes. 

She weighs a third of what he does, reaches well below his shoulders and speaks in a soft high voice. Nevertheless, Nathan Hardy is _terrified_ of her, because she has the habit of speaking down to him in a manner that is eerily reminiscent of his second-grade teacher. 

He derives little comfort from the fact that she treats everyone like that. 

 

He is discharged a week later and Faora accompanies him to his quarters. When the doors swish open, he gives her a Look and when she fails (refuses) to catch on, he adds a suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows. 

Faora smiles. She is obviously not falling for it. 

»Nathan, the doctor advised against any strenuous activity.« 

»Well, we won't do anything strenuous then.« He smiles, and leads her inside. 

Her short hair tickles his nose and he gasps in pain more than once when her elbow jabs his stomach. She apologizes every time and kisses him where he aches. 

He brushes his teeth while he watches her dress. 

»Perhaps you should ask the General to make the white robes compulsory wear for everyone from Krypton.« 

He sees her smile in the mirror. »Perhaps.« 

»I'm sure noone would complain.« 

»Especially miss Lane, am I correct?« 

He snorts toothpaste foam into his nose, then sneezes several times in succession. His stomach hurts as he doubles over with laughter. The more it hurts, the harder he laughs until he sees Faora's worried face in the window. 

He won't explain the concept of matchmaking to her. The thought of Faora as a yenta scares him. 

 

Once his wound heals completely, strenuous activity will be the first thing he will cross off his to-do list. 

He is not above begging, blackmail and bribery to get himself cleared for it as soon as possible. 

 

He is sitting in another meeting with the team responsible for the Genesis chamber. 

Desjardins, a lovely, dark-skinned Frenchwoman with more letters after her name than Hardy has medals on his chest (not that he parades them in the privacy of his own quarters before a mirror. Well, once or twice. To remind himself, after a particularly difficult day, that he is not a complete idiot.) is explaining the less that rosy state of the Chamber. 

 »The construction of the spare chamber continues as planned. It is expected to be finished long before any problems become apparent.« 

Hardy says: »Do we know what actually causes the problems?« 

Jax-Ur says: »We do not know how, but the walls have begun bending under the weight of the contents. So far, the flow of nutrients continues unimpeded, but if the progress continues, we will reach a point where the embryos begin dying off. However, I agree with Dr. Desjardins. The backup chamber should be finished long before ours is expected to fail in any way.« 

Hardy: »Will additional structural support change anything? « 

Desjarding and Jax-Ur both shake their heads as she says: »No. It will give the illusion of decreased risk, but it will change nothing. The chamber is old and it has not been serviced for millenia. The best way of solving the problem will be to build a new, better one.« 

Jax-Ur adds: »Which we cannot do until we dismantle the walls of our current chamber. The equipment underneath is crucial to maintaining Kryptonian conditions and building another one will take decades with your current level of technology.« 

 

»Miss Lane, were you courting two men at the same time?« 

Faora's question pulls him out of his reverie (mental arithmetic on how to fairly distribute the limited amount of processing capacity until the next delivery of CPUs. Or servers. Or whatever it was that he signed for last week when some was almost shouting at him and pointing a piece of paper at him as one might brandish a weapon. However if he sees that cursed Italian woman once more, he will start shooting people.) and he sees Lois Lane's face turn as red as a lobster and General Zod's face into stone. 

He has to leave the room because he can't stop laughing. 

Faora follows him soon after. They walk along the corridor slowly. 

»They are grown-ups, Faora, not puppets.« 

»Yes.« There is a long pause, broken only by the click of Nathan's cane on the floor. »Sometimes a gentle push in the right direction is necessary. They may ignore it if they wish. But they are good people. They deserve to be happy.« 

Nathan doesn't say that their definitions of »a gentle push« differ greatly. What Faora did would more accurately be described as a wrecking ball smashing through a tea party. 

»So you think all good people deserve to be happy?« 

»Yes,« says Faora, drawing out the word because she is unsure where the conversation is heading. 

»And do you think the two of us are good people?« 

Faora takes a few moments to answer while a gentle smile forms on her face. »More or less.« 

»Aha. And so you must think we deserve to be more or less happy?« 

Faora smiles brightly as the morning sun and takes his arm. 

 

One evening, he is reading reports in his bed, a cup of Darjeeling in one hand and his trusted tablet in the other when his phone crackles. 

"Colonel Hardy?" 

"Yes?" 

"It is Tor-An. I beg your forgiveness for disturbing you, but there is a problem we are unable to solve and Sub-Commander Faora is off base." 

If de Silva's staccato swearing in the background isn't enough of a hint, the quiet, low bass of the Genesis chamber is a dead giveaway. 

"Yeah, she went to Alpha Regio with the General to scout for potential new settlement sites." 

"Yes." Hardy already knows what Tor-An will say next. "May I ask you to come to the Genesis chamber? There is a problem with, erm..." 

_"-the inflow of raw materials_ -" he hears de Silva yell _"- è incredibile, abbiamo pagato tanti soldi per questi pezzi di merda che adesso non servono a niente-"_  

"There is a problem with the inflow of raw materials and we, that is, your scientist colleagues, are of the opinion that a swift reallocation of resources is necessary to guarantee an uninterrupted development of the progeny. May we count on you, please?" 

Hardy is almost certain there is a note of desperation in Tor-An's voice – not surprising, since that is the default reaction of anyone exposed to de Silva's charismatic and charming personality for more than a few minutes – and even though he suspects her of having sabotaged the project herself to get her greedy paws on more than her fair share of resources, he sighs and says: "I will be there right away." 

The warmth in Tor-An's voice when he says: "Thank you, Colonel," is not imagined. 

 

When he hobbles into the Genesis Chamber (or what he likes to call Frankenstein's Lab in the privacy of his own mind) it is to the decidedly unpleasant sound of de Silva berating another poor soul for some imagined inadequacy. 

Jax-Ur, in the Kryptonian equivalent of a nightie and a hastily thrown-on dressing gown, is standing next to Tor-An and nudges him when he sees Hardy walking towards them. 

Tor-An, relief evident on his face, opens his mouth and in that moment Hardy hears a sound that makes his hair stand on edge. 

He snaps: "Quiet," hoping that he is just hearing things. But there is it again – a quiet groan of bearing steel in terminal agony. It is silent and almost unrecognizable, but Nathan Hardy didn’t spend his teen years helping his dad out with his construction firm for nothing. 

He jabs a finger at a mousy civilian who is working in Facility Management. "You. The steel used for the construction of this section of the complex. _Where did it come from_?" 

"Uh, uh, uh it was produced according to the Kryptonian-" 

" _I know that._ Who manufactured it?" 

The mousy man begins to stutter as he pulls out his tablet. "I- I- I- don't kn-kn-know." He frantically taps the screen and Hardy regrets frightening him. So deliberately says in a gentler voice: "It's Adams, isn't it?" The man nods, his large eyes avoiding Hardy's. "Adams, it is very important that I know who made the steel bearings. Can you do that for me?" 

Adams nods and says a few seconds later: "It was L-L-Lexcorp sub-sub-sub-" 

Hardy finishes the sentence for him. "Subsidiary." Adams nods. "The ones that Lois Lane had a fight with?" Adams nods. 

_Fuck._  

He says to Tor-An: "The steel lining the chamber is of very bad quality and may give at any moment," and then yells: "Everyone out! Civilians first!" 

Hardy tries to remember de Silva's reports he read. He is only partially successful. But still, what he remembers turns a few cogs in his head. 

The Kryptonian and human soldiers are herding everyone out and as expected, de Silva is putting up quite a fight. Though not for long, notes Hardy, as a burly Kryptonian picks her up and carries her out under his arm like a baguette with her threatening legal action all the way. 

He says to Adams, who isn't budging: "You too, Adams, this place isn't safe." Adams nods and is gone.  

Tor-An approaches him and says: "Everyone in this area has been evacuated. I have given orders that the General is to be informed of what happened. Is it possible that the steel fatigue is a result of bearing load on a different planet?" 

Jax-Ur shakes his head and says: "I think it's the water."  

"In the tank?" 

"Yes. Our requirement was water, but then we had to make it much thicker than expected for it to be able to sustain the embryos. The larger gravity inside the chamber did nothing to improve matters." 

Tor-An says:"But it is still a liquid. Surely the change in the load was minimal and the steel should have held." 

Hardy says: "Should have, yes," and rubs his head. He feels an overwhelming sense of shame for all of humanity for having messed up so spectacularly. Tomorrow, nay, right after this particular situation has been dealt with he will fly to Earth and beat whoever is responsible for this into a bloody, sticky, messy pulp.  

"So what do we do?" 

Jax-Ur says: "We consult the bioengineers." Hardy agrees. The batch that came to build the backup chamber is an unruly lot, but they seem to know what they are doing. 

Martinez and Desjardins, joined at the hip as usual, burst into the chamber not five minutes later. Martinez is sporting teeth marks on his neck and Desjardins looks ready to strangle someone. 

Hardy explains the situation in a few terse sentences. Desjardins interrupts him a few words in and says: "Ah, Steelworks International. I have had the honour of using their products on a project because someone with a lot of power said so, _le_ _crétin_. The steel is already deformed and so the microvessels inside it supplying the embryos are misaligned." 

Tor-An interrupts her: "Is our progeny in danger?" 

Martinez says: "Not just the progeny, but the whole chamber. The tissues lining the chamber are slowly dying off because they no longer get enough food and oxygen." 

Tor-An goes white. Desjardins obviously notices it and says: "We have been aware of the inferior nature of the reinforcements for a while now, but the matter has been discussed with the General and seeing as the chamber is one of its kind, we have constructed a smaller chamber as backup instead of dismantling this one and risking damaging it. We have planned to move the contents into it with help from Professor de Silva next week should something catastrophic happen until a proper chamber can be constructed." 

Martinez says: "I'll get it right away." He leaves and is heard yelling for six men to help him wheel the backup chamber into place. 

Tor-An says, pleadingly: "The progeny?" 

Desjardins says nothing for a while. Then: "The chamber is large enough to house all four embryos. They will be fine. But we need to work quickly." 

Tor-An visibly deflates and smiles. 

De Silva is summoned, still seething from being handled like a puppet, but she sobers up once she realizes the gravity of the situation. Under her watchful gaze Tor-An dives into the chamber and partially removes the branches holding the embryos from the walls. 

As soon as Martinez and his group wheel the backup chamber inside, Tor-An cuts the remaining strands of tissue away from the wall and surfaces. De Silva and Martinez quickly transfer the embryos into the backup chamber and check if everything is working as expected. They then, together with Jax-Ur, swiftly wheel the backup chamber out. 

Then Hardy gives the order for everyone to evacuate the area. 

Just as Tor-An begins climbing out of the water, there is a crunch. Hardy, his blood running cold, sees a crack growing up the glass wall on which Tor-An is leaning. He yells: "The steel, Tor-An, hold on to the steel-" and tries to gain higher ground when the glass blows. He manages to jump and grab a ceiling support as the fluid pours onto the floor and into the corridor. He thinks _I hope everyone managed to get away._  

Then he sees Tor-An floating face down in the water. Hardy jumps down, curses when his leg seizes up and half-wades, half swims through the waist deep water to him. 

He manages, with great difficulty, to drag Tor-An to a parapet where he tries to do CPR. His leg refuses to bear his weight and he isn't high enough for the compressions to do any good, but he tries nevertheless. 

Less than a minute (an eternity) later, he sees people swimming to him. Up front is glorious, beautiful, wonderful Nurse Keeley, who nods and says: "We'll take it from here, Colonel. Well done. Get yourself somewhere warm," before she attacks Tor-An's lack of vital signs with the same vigour as she attacks everything else. 

He debriefs Desjardins and Martinez - "Backup chamber is functioning as expected, Professor de Silva says. You're wet. Get yourself somewhere warm before you catch a cold." - and collapses in his bed with the order that he is not to be disturbed _for anything at all_. 

He only wakes up when Faora kisses his forehead. He mumbles, "There was-" 

"I know," she says. 

He says: "Tor-An-" 

"Out of danger. You were wise and brave and now you must rest. It is our turn to worry now." 

 

Next morning, he is cornered by Doctor (or is it Professor) de Silva. 

She demands more CPU allocation for her team. The progress on commissioning the new birthing chamber will be halted if they cannot process the data they have acquired, she says. It will be his responsibility if the next brood is not birthed on time, she says. Would he care to explain that to the General and his people? To the President or the Consul-General? 

The thought that she had actually correctly predicted yesterday's disaster flits through his mind but he squashes it mercilessly because the woman is just _that annoying_. 

Out loud, he says: »In fact yes, I would, Miss de Silva.« (Her eyes narrow at the lack of title, but he does not care. He revels in it.) »Would you like to tell your colleagues that you tried to blackmail me into handing over resources that were to be distributed fairly among all of you? Less than one day after someone nearly died saving your 'project', after the progeny is safe and sound – oh yes, I _asked_ _around in your lab_   - you have the temerity to badger me for additional resources? Even though the Kryptonians are clearly in charge of this particular project?" 

She is struck dumb and he walks (hobbles) away smiling. 

This has the potential to turn into a wonderful day, he thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> I thank again mercscilla for her beta work and her encouragement.


End file.
